Banging Book Club | The Vagina Monologues by Eve Ensler

I don't want to start this review with the most privileged-sounding sentence I've probably ever said or written down, so I'll make it the second sentence. It is hard for me to appreciate the importance of this book in terms of its sexual politics since I consider myself a male feminist. Or if I'm being honest, a repenting sexist but let's not get bogged down in that. Or maybe we should. See, I can't help feeling that these monologues are preaching to the choir, speaking from my own perspective; I know the horrifying things done to women are reprehensible and it is unbelievable that they still go on. As I'm not a woman or someone who owns a vagina, it's hard for me to identify with the monologues on a emotional level leaving me feeling trapped with an intellectual perspective from my white male tower made of mansplaining frogs and snails and puppy-dog tails that always sounds condescending, patronising and not really providing any insight.

But Hannah directly asked in the Banging Books Club video what people who don't have vaginas think about it so I guess I'll give it a go. Especially because the thing that I think everyone will take from the book (and I imagine any performance of it) is that we need to be far more open in our discussions about sex, hence why Eve Ensler uses the vagina as a figure for this perspective. With this example, the focus becomes on the female experience of sex which seem pretty unrepresented in general in comparison to the male experience of sex (which I know explains a lot of my insecurities. Ooph this is going to be an honest blog, isn't it?) From my distanced perspective, it feels too easy to say 'It's all society's fault! Damn that patriarchy!' but just looking at the wording of the monologues and how the women speak is an effective demonstration of how much censorship there is around the word vagina and all things associated with it.

One woman explains how, after an embarrassing situation which she refers to as 'the flood,' she 'closed the whole store. Locked it. Never opened for business again.' Her reclusive tendencies is made explicit at the end of the monologue:

You happy? You made me talk - you got it out of me. You got an old lady to talk about her down-there. You feel better now? [Turns away; turns back]
You know, actually, you're the first person I ever talked to about this, and I feel a little better.

Now while Ensler used the words of real women for the monologues, the text itself is still a work of fictional drama; no matter how real it feels, you cannot ignore the artificial process. Hence, when these powerful moments occur, and there are plenty, they are clearly designed to do so. Now, I don't feel this detracts from the monologues - I fully believe that drama can have a powerful effect on people that can cause real change. And reading a woman describing herself as a 'store' and feeling both uncomfortable and liberated in being able to open herself up again was an emotional experience.

Now, is it something I've read before? Not exactly, but pretty similar things. But this is to be performed remember, so have I seen a woman talk in this way before? Yes, in both a dramatic context and in conversations with a friend who likes to talk about these issues ('These issues.' How dismissive of me. I apologise). Is that a problem? No. It just doesn't chime with my experience - how dare a piece of art be created which I cannot totally relate to! That's not what the Monologues are there for - their playful and humorous qualities (which there are plenty of, effectively balancing the dark, real and important issues) make it accessible to a wide audience, which it has demonstrably found and which continues to grow exponentially it seems. Ultimately, the monologues provide a starting point for discussions that we need to be having.

However, a problem has been raised in recent discussions I have seen about the book: how useful it is beyond that? I was amazed, much like Hannah was, that this was published in 1998 - I was 4 years old! This book has only just turned eighteen, and while in some ways the world still hasn't matured into grown-up discussions about vaginas yet never mind sex in general, it's made a hell of a lot of progress. Is it dated then? A reason for this strange sense of datedness is suggested in Elaine Aston's 2007 essay 'a good night out, for the girls' in Cool Britannia? British Political Drama in the 1990s:

What Esner does is to take a 1970s style of radical feminism and gives it a 1990s makeover: it takes consciousness-raising and radical feminism as a basis for a more up-to-date style of self-sexual-empowerment politics. In the process of this makeover, a 1970s emphasis on the collective [...] is rejected in favour of the solo (p. 119)

(N.B. the essay, and indeed the whole book is fascinating - Aston goes on to look at the work of Jenny Eclair and Catherine Johnston, the woman who created Mamma Mia! Yes, this is an academic essay analysing the ABBA musical)

Aston's argument has meant that what I initially found an honest and enlightening explanation by Ensler now hints at deep problems such as when she explains 'my favourite part of traveling with the work. I get to hear the truly amazing stories.' Interestingly though Ensler makes herself a character in one of the monologues reacting to a lesbian woman telling her story. The frankness of it all prompts many thoughts from Esner including the following:

I don't know that I wanted to talk about sex. But then again, how can I talk about vaginas without talking about them in action? I am worried about the titillation factor, worried about the piece becoming exploitative. Am I talking about vaginas to arouse people? Is that a bad thing?

I realize I am embarrassed, listening to her. There is a combination of reasons: excitement, fear, her love of vaginas and comfort with them and my distancing, terror of saying all this in front of you, the audience.

I realize I don't know what is appropriate. I don't even know what that word means. Who decides. I learn so much from what she's telling me. About her, about me.

Does talking about vaginas ruin the mystery, or is that just another myth that keeps vaginas in the dark, keeps them unknowing and unsatisfied?

For all the self-awareness though, it doesn't seem like the monologue deeps much further into these thoughts. Instead we move on to another story. Fine, that's the structure of the text, but as such it can all feel a little lacking. Perhaps nowadays we crave for deeper analysis rather than just musings. (Which explains why I wonder sometimes if writing this blog is worth it.) Interestingly, Aston comments that her student's shocked reaction to her criticism of The Vagina Monologues as a conservative text are a result of a 'I'm not a feminist but...' culture where 'feminism is assumed, is taken as a given, but is not a point of identification in terms either of politics or performance' (p. 121).

So it clearly has a different effect now then it did when it was originally performed and published. If it still has an effect at all. The frankness and honesty remains striking but with the Internet allowing similar stories to exist in their thousands, stories about vagina workshops may seem quaint or radical depending on your perspective and how many of these sort-of stories you have read.

Rather than being simplistic or reductive as some might argue, I think it might just be out of date which I think is a testament to the rapid expansion of discourse since the Monologues was launched within it. No longer are the Monologues unique in its blunt, frank and honest discussions of female sexuality - as well as Jenny Eclair, who Aston discusses alongside the monologues, there's Caitlin Moran, Jo Brand, Luisa Omielan, Cariad Lloyd, Danielle Ward, Amy Schumer and I'm sure many other female performers talking about their sexuality in a funny, accessible and intelligent manner. Moreover, these performers are talking about our current modern society which, as I mentioned above, has changed considerably since the Monologues began particularly with its concerns with non-binary genders, transexuality and asexuality. There is a fantastic video that addresses this latter point as from a non-sexual perspective, the Monologues may not be as inclusive as it appears to be with its focus on sex. As the video explains, a vagina can mean more than being a sexual organ. But I can't help the criticism is a bit harsh as this concern is addressed in the monologues (albeit briefly), see for example the opening of 'Because he liked to look at it':

This is how I came to love my vagina. It's embarrassing, because it's not politically correct. I mean, I know it should have happened in a bath with salt grains from the Dead Sea, Enya playing, me loving my woman self. I know the story. Vaginas are beautiful. Our self-hatred is only the internalized repression and hatred of the patriarchal culture. It isn't real. Pussys unite. I know all of it. Like, if we'd grown up in a culture where we were taught that fat thighs were beautiful, we'd all be pounding down milkshakes and cookies, lying on our backs , spending our days thigh-expanding. But we didn't grow up in that culture.

That quotation expresses my concern that there is a risk of over-intellectualizing this book; it is a provocative book and a thought-provoking one at that but on an emotional level.

Saying that, I agree with Leena's point in the BB video that this is a book that is difficult, if not impossible, to read objectively. This is a protest, not a statement. As Ensler herself says in her introduction, written in 2001, 'Whenever I have tried to write a monologue to serve a politically correct agenda, [...] it always fails. Note the lack of monologues about menopause or transgendered women. I tried. The Vagina Monologues is about attraction, not promotion.' It's still good for these voices to be heard than not at all and surely we can only get better as we improve on being more inclusive and open-minded in these discussions. If nothing else, this book makes you think about how you think and want to write honestly and personally about yourself. (Wait a minute...)

And that's where I want to leave this review: ultimately, what I've been trying to say is that this was something that challenged my intellectual, somewhat 'know-it-all' feminism ('Well of course women should have equal rights!')
And that's what this book club is already doing for me and the reason I've (sort-of) kickstarted this blog once again, to try and get my thoughts in order. Hopefully a better order than they were in before. I look forward to rejoining with All the Rage(really need to get round to reading it now the video is up). Who knows, there may be another review or two to tide you over between the monthly readings, we'll see...

Theatre review: Hotel (National Theatre); 1984 (Playhouse Theatre)

First off, I saw these shows several weeks ago and they both close by the end of August. So bad timing on my part, sorry. If you want a quick answer of whether you should get tickets for these shows ASAP, the short answer is yes. (You have until 2nd August for Hotel, while 1984 is on for lightly longer: 23rd August. Both links are where I got my tickets from and I highly recommend them. They arrived promptly and were decent prices for the seats I got.)

Once you've done that, feel free to stick around and read my thoughts. I promise no spoilers, although this is difficult with Polly Stenham's latest play, Hotel.

Safe to say, Stenham's career is on an increasingly high trajectory following her award-winning debut That Face in 2007, which she wrote at 19 and starred some actor nobody's heard of called Matt Smith. Give it three years...
While in comparison to Smith Stenham's star has taken longer to shine, it is still impressive that in seven years she has written three successful plays at the Royal Court and now has a play at the National Theatre, with numerous film scripts soon to be added to her repertoire. While I have read all her previous plays, I became aware of her too late to see any of them. I recommend reading all of them although you may find, as many critics point out, that she covers similar themes and, if you're mean hearted, the same plot: a middle class family dealing with difficult problems that threaten to splinter that family dynamic. (I promise they're a lot more interesting then that sounds).

Hotel begins, as if deliberately to annoy those critics, with a dysfunctional middle class family, with the son and daughter keeping a secret from their father, who has got his politician wife into a career-threatening scandal. They all go to a hotel resort on an African island (I may not have been paying close enough attention, but I don't think they specify where). The holiday doesn't go to plan and I won't go any further, as the play tautly races through its 80+ minutes running time as shocking events unfold.

This intense speed is helped by the enclosed space, where you are incredibly close to the action. Even those in seats above me (I was in the stalls) were far from detached from the action. The Shed (or as I believe it is officially called for legal reasons, The Temporary Theatre) is a fantastic space that from the start pledged to exhibit new, experimental theatre and having now been in it, I can see why. The set is amazingly detailed, which makes sense as it is all set in the hotel room, further enhancing the claustrophobic atmosphere.

You might have noticed I started commenting on the set first, which is usually a bad sign in a review. And I have to say I think this is Stenham's weakest play, but despite that it's still a tense, intelligent piece of work. Maybe it's because I'm used to her writing now, but it did feel like she was using the same tricks again although on a more politically charged subject matter. This change of focus, while refreshing, does mean that her tendency for didactic speeches, which are usually written with enough conviction to not be an issue, seems less subtle.

Despite that, I gasped several times and felt uncomfortably tense pretty much throughout. Having only read Stenham's writing, it was a completely different experience seeing it spoken and acted out right in front of me. Her writing is so visceral and angry that when given to good actors (the ensemble cast were all great) you can't help but get carried away with it. Maria Aberg's direction keeps the tension palpable and the shocks are rarely exactly as you expect. It was an intense experience that left me breathless but didn't quite hold together once I thought about it some more. But overall I'm very glad I saw this energetic, gripping piece of theatre that gives its audience lots to think about and a fascinating subject to debate about.

I'm so glad I gave myself a few hours just to wonder round London and take in some fresh air before I plunged into another world of nightmares - the world of 1984, Headlong Theatre's acclaimed adaptation of Orwell's famous novel.


Interestingly enough, both productions chose not to have an
interval, which meant I had a pretty intense day of theatre-going experience from two demanding plays. But thankfully the time flowed quickly and there was a minimal amount of fidgeting in my seat.

Sadly, 1984 wasn't the total experience I wanted. I was fairly high up in the dress circle and so the top of the video screen (which interacts with the live action beautifully) was cut off. It didn't totally ruin the experience, but I have to admit it was lessened slightly. Also, the play was briefly disrupted when someone in front of me nearly passed out because of the bright lights that flashed repetitively during the Room 101 sequence, although I have to admit it made those scenes that bit more uncomfortable. But in all seriousness, there wasn't a noticeable warning for those who react badly to strobes, so here it is.

No matter where you sit, though, it will be difficult not to be blown away by this production. If you're intrigued by how exactly they manage to dramatise a book that spends so long in Winston's troubled mind, then there's plenty of reviews that spoil exactly how they do it. Having read a couple of these, one of the most eerie sequences was ruined for me so I'm not going into detail. However, even that sequence still gave me chills, as did the entire production. It is the perfect combination of intellectual stimulation and emotionally charged drama which means every scene has incredible power. For example, the transition to Room 101 was absolutely stunning, one of the best things I've seen in theatre, that I admired as a technical achievement but also terrified me as Winston's world collapses around him.

As the web page for the production explains, the story of 1984 is bookmarked by a group of historians looking at the book as an historical artifact. Not only does this refresh the story and aid in translating it into a stage play, it allows the play to address our reaction to the novel as well as the novel itself. While it spells it out in its penultimate line, it's message still leaves an impact that is at once thoughtful and unsettling. Safe to say, without its outstanding ensemble cast, who so eerily convey the dystopian world without over-exaggeration, the play would lack its power.

While far from perfect experiences, I was absolutely engrossed and incredibly impressed by these productions. Headlong Theatre have created one of, if not The, best book-to-stage adaptations I've ever seen and is absolutely unmissable. Glad I finally got to see it, as well as Hotel, which has ticked off a box for me in finally seeing a Polly Stenham play, of which hopefully I will see many more.

Thoughts on rewriting Shakespeare

Literary obsessives among you may be aware of the recent news that Penguin Random House are commissioning a series that will adapt the plays of Shakespeare into the novel form. Award winning authors Margaret Atwood and Howard Jacobson have been added to the list of authors attempting this task (so far only four have been announced, see the story for more). As you might expect, some have been up in arms: surely the authors have better things to do? Why should we meddle with Shakespeare? What will this achieve? Is this going to ruin Shakespeare?

To be fair, I am generalising massively here and the reputation of the authors so far announced is making people very excited. Even better, some people are very open to reinterpretation of Shakespeare and correctly say that it is not a brand new idea. Indeed, there are a series of children's books which I got one Christmas that tell the plays of Shakespeare in modern prose and charming illustrations. Now, this project is going to be more ambitious than that series. Here, they are going to use the novel from to retell the stories rather than just summarise them. Again, not without precedence: A Thousand Acres (one of the many books on my 'must read' list) retells the story of King Lear, and there are numerous plays and films that use Shakespeare's plays as a starting point.

Personally, I'm going to read them and quite excited about future announcements. This is an exciting chance to see another interpretation of Shakespeare's work which we see every month it seems. I see no reason that this news should not be as exciting as the news this week of the Royal Shakespeare Company announcing its summer season. Both projects are going to give us versions of Shakespeare that will not be to everyone's taste. But everyone has their version of Shakespeare. That is why his work lasts, because it can be endlessly reassessed, looked at in a different way.

In fact, the novels will probably be more faithful to the plays than most modern theatre productions will be. Shakespeare's plays are long and a lot of the material simply doesn't work nowadays. This, as well as creative decisions, means that rarely do you see a Shakespeare play in its entirety (as Kenneth Branagh's film proved Hamlet would be about four hours long). Beyond page length, novels don't have this problem with length and just as modern productions do now, can rework the unworkable material into something that does.

I'm definitely going to check these out although as has been pointed out by others, so far no-one has been announced for the tragedies. While the commissioned author of Hamlet or Macbeth (my all time favourite Shakespeare play) will be naturally daunted, they should be thrilled to have such a unique opportunity that would be hard to refuse. As terrifying as it would be, I would definitely love to have a shot at producing my version of these timeless works. Best of luck to the authors, I can't wait to read them.

Abigail's Party on stage (4th June 2013, New Theatre, Cardiff)

It was only after I read the programme for this production of Abigail's Party that I knew that it had began as a play. Like most, I knew Abigail's Party from the wonderful television play from 1977, starring Alison Steadman. Even when watching a repeat on television a couple of years ago, Mike Leigh's damning social commentary still packs a punch. While teenager Abigail has a riotous party across the road, Beverly (Hannah Waterman) attempts to throw a more modest affair with just as much fun. While much smaller - there is only her and her husband Laurence, new couple Angela and Tony, and Abigail's mother Susan - her party spins out of control just as quickly as the fifteen year old's.

A comic drama rather than a full on comedy, there is still much fun to be had at seeing social manners so quickly disintegrate, as the suburban sheen gradually fades away. Even the set seems to be be simultaneously attractive and repulsive. It may stick close to the 1970s setting but this production proves how even today Leigh's criticism of 'keeping up appearances' is still effective, aided by a talented cast, led by Waterman, who avoids rehashing Steadman's performance and plays Beverly as a more desperate and pitiful character. While her quips are funny, they also hint at her despair at the humdrum life she lives. As such, her seducing of Tony is bitterly comic as we see her desperation for fun and freedom.

In fact, this production seems much bleaker than the television play, to the credit of the cast who avoid playing it too broadly or trying to get easy laughs. Most of the laughs here are uncomfortable ones. Particularly since the television play is so well-regarded, it would be easy for the cast to just fall into character types and caricatures. However, the cast work extraordinarily well at convincing you that these people have a life outside the events of the play. Awkward silences are hilariously recognisable as are the arguments that occur about class and art. Martin Marquez as Laurence is brilliantly stuck up, and appears even more so when he occasionally locks head with Samuel James' Tony, a down-to-earth man who is brilliantly deadpan and aggressive when required. His wife (Katie Lightfoot) gets the balance perfect between irritating and endearing, and Emily Raymond as Susan gives a suitably sympathetic put-upon performance.

The one criticism I have is that there was an interval, which seemed to rudely interrupt the play. It would've been much better to have the ordeal of the party occur uninterrupted, especially as the play really benefits being done as a live performance. From the stalls, you get a fairly similar perspective to the characters on stage allowing the awkwardness and hilarity of the party to be experienced head-on. While for some the television play can't be matched, actually experiencing the events live and have them occur physically in front of you really gives an edge to the play especially as it moves towards tragedy in its final movements.

Mike Leigh has this incredible quality in his work to be able to present human interactions in an authentic and entertaining manner. His process may remain elusive to outsiders, but as long as it continues to produce quality material I'm happy to let the magician keep the secrets under his hat. Well worth seeing live if you can, but if not possible, at least track down the television play. While more muted, it stands up as a remarkable piece of drama.

Watching and Reading Much Ado About Nothing

'When I said I would die a bachelor, I did not think I should still live till I were married.'

Just to make clear, no I regrettably have not seen the David Tennant and Catherine Tate production, but nevertheless the performance I saw in Abergavenny was still impressive. The trick to performing Shakespeare I find is focusing on clarity - chances are at least half the audience will not be familiar with the ins and outs of the play or be able to fully understand the language. In this case the ensemble company did this very well and provided an entertaining evening for all. And it is them more than Shakespeare that deserves the plaudits.

The plot is fairly simple: a group of soldiers return from war to stay in the home of Leonardo, where some of them fall in love with his female family and servants. But as Shakespeare himself wrote, although not in this play, "the course of true love never did run smooth"

The recent convention of abridging Shakespeare's plays may mean there are few productions that contain the whole text, but it does make them more approachable - the quality is still up for debate. As Mark Lawson brought up in his interview with Tennant and Tate, lines like 'if I do not love her, I am a Jew' cannot be used in modern productions. The only possible exception is if, like Gilliam with Faust, a director chose to set the play in Nazi Germany - hardly likely to be a successful combination with any comedies, never mind Shakespeare's.

While the play contains many witty one-liners and fiery dialogue within Beatrice and Benedick's arguments, they did not provoke near as many laughs as the physical comedy from the actors, particularly when both Beatrice and Benedick are tricked into thinking they are in love with each other. Hiding behind increasingly ludicrous items and an attempted cat imitation were exaggerated to the right extent to bring the audience to hysteria. The lines usually only produced laughs through the fantastic timing and inflections used by the actors, such as one instant when a bitter Claudio bitterly talks to 'BeneDICK'

As such when reading the play, the wordplay is more humorous and benefits from being able to take time to understand the language. It also provides detail for the characters and plot, although in this case little more is needed. What is most striking is the similarities and differences in the experiences. The moments of exposition are tedious in both versions, particularly when Hero's fake death is planned - a dramatic contrivance that is near impossible to overcome. However the production did successufully manage at least one major diversion from the text. Claudio, lover of Hero, is tricked into thinking she cheats on him by Don John. Unlike in the script, the production showed the deception on stage. The only piece of dialogue was when the trickster cried to his lover, "You are my Hero" with Claudio's heartbreak being portrayed through some impressive acting. While it was tragic when I first watched it, it is simply stunning knowing that it's an insert.

I am generally of the opinion that seeing a performance of Shakespeare's plays, whether on film or stage, is the best possible way to gain an appreciation of the text; if it is designed to be performed, it is ridiculous to only judge it on a literate level. I genuinely feel Shakespeare was primarily a fantastic entertainer but this was the first time I saw a full-length performance - an area I aim to rectify in time. This relatively low-key production of a mostly lesser-known play leaves me desperate for more.